


Take Me as a Mark

by lavieboheme0919



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fluff and Angst, Gay Bashing, M/M, New York City, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavieboheme0919/pseuds/lavieboheme0919
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has wanted to find the man whose name is written on his skin nearly all his life. When he bumps into him at a fashion show in New York City, he becomes quite taken by him. Unfortunately, he has no idea that his soulmate has a long-term boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agrusahale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrusahale/gifts).



> This story is dedicated to my beta reader and friend, agrusahale.

In Beacon Hills, California

The coarse fabric itched at Stiles' arm as he climbed the stairs that led up to his new school. He found himself cursing his ancestors in his head. Why did his family have to have their Mark somewhere so obvious? And of course, his first day of high school would be the one day he overslept and forgot to grab a long-sleeved shirt. The last thing he needed was for someone to see that his Soulmate's Mark was a guy's name.

Stiles was in no way ashamed of his Soulmate, whom he desperately hoped to meet one day, he just didn't want to get his ass kicked by bullies. Being the type of person he was, he had already scoped out where his classes were and headed straight for homeroom. He grabbed an open seat in the back of the room and made sure to keep his arm hidden beneath the desk and out of sight.

The first two classes passed quickly and when it came time for him to go to his third class of the day, he was excited. It was the only class he had with his best friend. As Scott McCall saw the empty seat next to him, his eyes lit up. "I just saw a poster for lacrosse sign-ups! We totally need to do that!" he said as he slid into the seat beside Stiles.

"Just out of curiosity," Stiles replied. "How do you expect to play something as physical as lacrosse when you have some pretty severe asthma?"

"We changed my medications and I've been practicing. I'm pretty sure I can do it," Scott countered defensively.

Stiles shrugged. "Well… they're your lungs, dude."

The teacher waited until the bell rang to call the class to order, but Stiles didn't pay much attention. Instead, he lost himself in hushed conversation with Scott about how and when exactly they were going to approach the process of signing up.

The rest of his classes passed in much the same manner until his final class of the day, gym. To his horror, the teacher wanted to begin with a physical fitness test and ordered the students to change into their gym clothes. He did so, careful to make sure that the cloth still fully covered the name.

The students all lined up on the track and when the coach blew the whistle, they all took off. Stiles hadn't practiced all summer, so he found himself sweating and out of breath as he completed his first lap around the track. He fell further and further behind the group as time went on. He could feel their eyes on him, judging him. The coach called him in before he could finish his final lap. "That was abysmal," he said as Stiles approached. "And what on Earth is that on your arm?"

"It's a piece of cloth, sir," Stiles replied dryly.

"I can see that, smartass. Why is it tied to your arm?" the coach asked, clearly not appreciating Stiles' snarky response.

"It's covering my Soulmate Mark," Stiles whispered.

"Stilinski, everyone has a Mark. I don't want to see that cloth again," he replied with an air of chilling finality.

Stiles felt his blood run cold as the coach then ordered him to remove the cloth and instructed the class to hit the showers. He waited until everyone else was gone before he began showering. When he was finished washing up, Stiles wrapped the towel around his waist and headed over to his locker to change. He had no sooner opened it up when it was slammed shut. Stiles jumped and looked up to see who it was. There were several guys standing there, looking imperiously at him.

"Show me your arm," the guy nearest to Stiles demanded.

"No," came Stiles' reply. His voice was thinner and weaker than he would have liked.

"Show me your fucking arm," the guy repeated, this time the command came slowly and menacingly.

"I don't want any trouble," Stiles said as he slowly backed away.

The group advanced. "There won't be any trouble. Just show me your fucking arm!"

Stiles wanted to beg for them to leave him alone. That may have been smarter than what he actually said, which was, "Why… do you want to check to see if it's your name written there?"

The apparent leader of the gang flushed in rage. "What the fuck did you just say to me, fag?"

Stiles cleared his throat, mostly for effect at this point. "I asked if you wanted to see if your name was written there."

"Hold him down," the leader ordered. Two other guys quickly moved forward, grabbing Stiles before he could run. Their hands squeezed his skin so tightly that he was certain there would be bruises. The goons had him effectively immobilized. "Show me his arm."

Stiles felt a blunt pain in his back and reflexively sank to his knees. "What does it say, Cody?" someone asked. Stiles knew the leader's name.

"Derek Hale," Cody sneered. He dragged out the name in disgust. "I figured you were a fag," he added before bringing his knee into Stiles' abdomen. Pain nearly blinded him and the bitter taste of metal filled his mouth.

Stiles wanted to cry and beg them to leave him alone, but he had too much pride. "You've seen mine," he said, gasping. "Now why don't you show me yours?"

Rage seemed to emanate from Cody and he reared back before releasing a powerful blow with his fist that made contact with his cheek. Salty, crimson blood began to leak from his mouth. Some of it spilled past his lips and dribbled down his chin. He had no time to regain his bearings this time. That blow was followed by another, coming at him from a different direction. He could feel as knees, feet, and fists hit him across his body. He curled up, trying to protect himself.

"Please stop!" he begged, finally allowing his desire to survive to overcome his pride. Every part of his body hurt and he knew that if they continued, he would be killed. Still the blows continued to hit him. He could feel the darkness closing in. He heard the coach's voice cutting through the shouts of homophobic expletives and his own cries. Stiles saw the coach pull one of the guys off of him before he finally blacked out.

* * *

In New York City at right around the same time

"You don't look so good," Jordan said, watching as Derek stumbled out of the kitchen of their studio apartment.

"I think it was the sushi from last night," Derek replied.

Jordan shook his head. "No… I ate the same stuff you did and I feel fine." His beautiful green eyes filled with worry.

Derek winced as a prickle of pain shot across the spot just below his right clavicle. He was careful to make sure that Jordan didn't see where the pain came from. The fact that his Soulmate Mark was placed somewhere that he had to look during sex had been a source of awkwardness for them at one point. He couldn't imagine how difficult being head-over-heels in love with a man whose soulmate was someone else must be. "I think I'm going to lie down. My head hurts so much I can barely see straight," Derek said, disappearing behind the partition. He pulled off his shirt. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but his mark looked somewhat faded. His head was pounding and his stomach was hurting in a way it had never hurt before.

Jordan followed him. "Do you want me to brew you some chamomile tea?"

"No," Derek replied as he pulled his covers up over himself. "But you're more than welcome to come cuddle with me."

Jordan pulled off his clothes, leaving only his boxers and climbed into the large bed they shared. He let his hand snake around his boyfriend's waist. He snuggled as closely as possible. It took him a few minutes to realize that Derek had already fallen asleep.

* * *

In Beacon Hills, a week later

Stiles woke up to a steady beating of the heart monitor next to his bed. The bright florescent lights hurt his eyes and it took him a few minutes to realize that he was in a hospital. His father and best friend were sitting next to him. His voice seemed tired and slow from the pain killers that were being pumped into his veins through the IV line. "What happened?" he asked. The memories of the attack hadn't quite come back to him. "Why am I here?"

Stiles tried to sit up, but his father quickly moved to prevent that. "Don't move too much," he said softly. "You have a couple of ribs that are still healing. Do you remember what happened?"

He strained his mind to try to remember. Things were coming to him, but as he saw the events in his mind's eye, they were cloudy, as if he were looking at them through a dense fog. "I was showering after PE. And then some guys came up to me and wanted to see my Mark. When I refused, they beat me up."

"They didn't just beat you up, Stiles," Scott said. "They nearly killed you."

"Three broken ribs, a severe concussion, internal bleeding, the list goes on," his father added. "If the coach hadn't found you when he did, you wouldn't have survived."

Stiles hadn't realized how bad it had been. "Did they get the guys who did this?" he asked.

"Yeah," his father replied. "They're currently in Juvenile Detention. They've been charged with felony battery and assault."

"I shouldn't have mouthed off to them," Stiles said softly.

"It's not your fault they're all uncivilized assholes," Scott replied quickly. "Why did they want to see your Mark?"

Stiles shrugged and immediately the pain from his broken ribs forced him to tense. "I can't go back to that school," he said, once it had subsided to a tolerable level.

"We can home-school you," his father suggested. "There are some pretty good programs out there…"

Stiles shook his head. "No. Don't we have family somewhere else? I'm going to be that kid who got the living shit kicked out of him on the first day of high school. That's going to be my legacy there… it's going to happen again."

"We can move if you would feel better, but you have to go to school, Stiles," his father said.

"I know that I have to go to school. I just don't want to go back to this one, and I don't want to stay here…" Stiles said softly. The effort of this interaction, however brief it had been, was sapping Stiles of the little energy he had. "Can I go back to sleep?"

"Of course," he said. "Get some rest."


	2. Chapter 2

In New York City, three and a half years later

The water was still cold, but Stiles' lungs burned hotly as he raced. He couldn't tell how much further ahead of the others he was, but somehow he knew he was in the lead. He could see the wall coming up on him. He knew there were only a few more feet left. He hit it and popped his head above water. His swim coach, a tall slender man who had qualified for the Olympics several times, seemed elated as he pushed himself out of the pool. His teammates came up quickly to wrap him in a towel and he pulled the goggles off his eyes. He was the first to finish.

"You beat the state record!" his coach said excitedly.

"You're kidding…" Stiles replied, believing it was a prank.

"No… you beat it by at least three seconds! I think we may be taking home the state title, too. You did great, Stiles!" his coach said, clapping him on his back. A rush of emotions and adrenaline were flooding through him. He had been working toward this moment for several years now.

His eyes scanned the watching crowd. His father was on his feet jumping up and down excitedly. "That's my son!" he screamed proudly as Stiles was called to the dais to receive his first place medal and his record. It was the most fantastic finish to his senior year he could imagine.

He was graduating as the salutatorian of his class, the reigning state champion for the swimming freestyle record, and more importantly, to him, with a contract for one of the most prestigious modeling agencies in the city. He had gotten into every college he had applied for, and for the first time in his life, he didn't feel like he was an outcast.

After the meet, Stiles had a voracious appetite. Swimming always made him ravenous. "Wherever you want to go, we'll go," his dad said, still beaming in pride.

"Honestly… I would like a burger or a steak," Stiles said. "Maybe both…"

"I can't believe it, Stiles… State Champion!" he said, mostly to himself. Stiles smiled. He was feeling the effects of his adrenaline wearing off and he could actually feel himself crashing. He knew that the moment they got to their apartment, Stiles was going to fall deep into sleep.

That was exactly what he did.

He was hesitant to admit it, but he was actually excited for the swim competition season to be over. It meant he could start making money with more modeling gigs. The more he got his face and chest and abs out there, the more money he made. He already had a few scholarships for college, but this extra money would go a long way for him.

The next weekend, Stiles actually had a runway gig. He was going to be modeling a new line for a designer who was trying to break into the scene and if that gig went well, the designer and Stiles would both be able to participate in New York's famous Fashion Week. Having been on the swim team, he was well accustomed to standing around in clothes that made him look ridiculous. He had lost count of the number of sit-ups and push-ups he did in the days leading up to the event.

As he arrived to the set and was immediately greeted by the designer. There were gorgeous male models all over the place. There was no dressing room, but having been on the swim team, Stiles held no shame about what God had given him and quickly stripped down and changed into the outfit which was almost psychedelic in nature. It was designed to look like stained glass and the makeup artist had carefully covered up his soulmate Mark and created a few different designs on his skin, since the shirt itself was sleeveless. "It'll wash off with a little soap and water," she had told him.

The designer walked through the line of models, rearranging them and muttering something about his assistant not being able to listen. As Stiles looked around, he realized that his wasn't the most bizarre outfit and actually felt bad for some of the other models and wondered who on God's earth would ever actually wear these things. But then again, that was the world of high fashion. He overheard one of the other models talking about how each of the models who participated would be able to keep the outfit they liked the most and rolled his eyes. The only way he would wear any of this was if he was being paid to.

"Thank you all so much! This is my dream come true," the designer said before he disappeared to introduce his line. A few producers walked their way through the queue of men, making minor adjustments to the presentation of the garments before the music pumped up and the line started to move. Stiles could not wait for the whole thing to be over.

When it was his turn to walk the runway, he kept repeating  _Whatever you do, don't trip_  in his head. It had been his father's advice. He knew his dad was nowhere in the crowd. He had made it a point to attend every swim meet, but Stiles did not blame him for avoiding the fashion shows. The flashing lights of the photographers were nearly blinding. Stiles stared straight out as he walked. When he got to the end of the runway, he struck a casual, bad-boy pose that he felt was not the most convincing before heading back to the backstage area.

He knew he couldn't change out of the outfit just yet because all of the models would be expected to go back out during the final hurrah of the show. He walked up to the water cooler and poured himself a glass of water before pacing around, trying to expend some of his nervous energy. There was an uneven part of the floor and Stiles' foot hit it in just the right way that sent him sprawling into the lap of another model who had been sitting down and checking his phone.

He was lucky that the man had lightning-quick reflexes as he grabbed Stiles. His hand slid a bit on the makeup. Stiles managed to catch his bearings and popped back up to his feet. The man looked at the makeup smudged onto his hand and then to the spot on Stiles' arm. The letters "Hale" were clearly visible in the elegant script.

"I'm so sorry," Stiles exclaimed, flagging down a makeup artist to repair the damage as the producers were corralling the models to do the final walk. The other man quickly got back into his place in line without another word exchanged between them. The makeup artist had only barely finished her work when it was Stiles' turn to go back out. The insanely loud music could hardly be heard over the thunderous applause.

After the show, Stiles quickly changed back into his more comfortable jeans and a shirt. He was ready to leave when the man whose lap he had fallen into caught up with him. "Hey wait up! Aren't you going to take advantage of the free clothes?"

"I'll pass." Stiles shrugged and opened the door, momentarily blinding them from the bright sunshine outside.

"Earlier when you fell, I noticed something," the handsome man started.

"Oh it's just my Soulmate Mark," Stiles replied dismissively.

"Well I saw my last name… Hale," he said.

"Wait… what?" Stiles blinked a few times, unsure he had heard correctly. "That's a pretty common name…"

"Well… is your name Stanisław Stilinski?"

Stiles froze. "How did you know that?"

Derek pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing the Mark where his Soulmate's name was written, just beneath the collarbone.

"Yeah," Stiles said softly.

"We're Soulmates," Derek said so softly it was barely louder than a breath. "I've always wondered if I would ever meet you. And let me say… you certainly know how to make an entrance."

Stiles blushed a bright shade of red. "I'm probably one of the clumsiest people on the planet. That's why I was on the swim team instead of another sport. It's hard to fall over when you're in water."

Derek smiled. "Do you want to go get coffee?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah… That would be great! And I promise I won't spill any on you."

Derek chuckled. "Good to know!"

They walked to a nearby café. Standing in line, they remained silent. What did one say to their soulmate upon first meeting him? Derek ordered a black Americano and Stiles just ordered a small latte. They sat down with their drinks and an awkward silence fell over them. "So how weird is it that we both live in New York and we're both models?" Derek said, trying to start conversation.

"Yeah," Stiles replied vacantly, unsure how to process this.

"So tell me a bit about yourself," Derek prodded. "How old are you?"

"I'm 18," Stiles replied. "You?"

"I'm 24," Derek said. "When did you start modeling?"

"Recently, actually," Stiles replied. "I'm the captain of my high school swim team. One of the kids on the school newspaper or yearbook or something has a parent in the business and they saw a photo of me posing at a meet and offered me a modeling contract. I'm using it to help pay for college. How about you?"

"I've been modeling since I was 17. My family is actually kind of wealthy so they always encouraged me to do what I wanted. Granted, I think my mom wanted me to go to med school or something, but she has been really supportive of everything I've done so far," Derek answered.

"What's the coolest gig you've ever booked?" Stiles asked.

"I got to model at Fashion Week in Paris, actually," Derek said. "That was fun…"

"Weren't you on the Hanes underwear, also?"

"Fruit of the Loom, actually," Derek replied. "I see you're a fan, then."

Stiles smiled. "All my life I wondered about when I would meet my Soulmate. I never expected you would be…"

"Drop-dead gorgeous?" Derek offered.

Stiles laughed. "So what does this mean for us? I mean… we  _are_  Soulmates, after all."

"Well, we  _did_ just meet. Granted, you went straight for second base," Derek joked. "But seriously, I would love to get to know you."

Stiles sipped at his latte and smiled shyly. "I would like that, too."

The conversation continued for a while but finally, Stiles realized he needed to go. "My dad is going to start worrying. When can I see you again?"

"This city can be dangerous," Derek said. "At least let me walk you home."

"I live in Nolita," Stiles said. "I can take the train. It's fine."

"I live in SoHo," Derek said. "Seriously, it's no problem. We can catch a cab. My treat."

Stiles relented and agreed. They headed outside and Derek stepped to the curb. He let out a loud whistle and raised his arm. A bright yellow cab pulled up. He opened the door and Stiles slid in. They gave the driver the address and their journey commenced. "So have you always lived in New York?" Stiles asked.

"I'm actually originally from a small town in Northern California," Derek replied. "But we moved here when I was ten."

"I'm from Northern California, too! The town is called Beacon Hills," Stiles replied.

" _Please_  tell me you're kidding," Derek said.

"Nope…" Stiles replied cautiously. "Why?"

"That's where we lived before we came here. I was born there, actually," Derek replied.

"Oh my God!" Stiles exclaimed. "That's insane…"

"Why did you move to The Big Apple?" Derek asked.

"Some guys in my high school found I had a guy's name—your name—as my Soulmate Mark and they beat me up so badly that I was in the hospital for a week or so. We had some family here," Stiles said. He could feel the fear of that time in his life building up within him. "I couldn't go back to that school. I was terrified. I left my best friend… I left the house where I grew up… I left the place where my mom is buried. I let fear literally uproot my entire life."

Derek's hand rested on Stiles' knee. "How do you feel right now?"

Stiles swallowed. He could feel his eyes welling up. "To be honest, I'm scared."

"Why?" Derek asked.

"Because I've always dreamed of finally meeting you, but I never once put even a second of thought into what was going to happen after that," he replied.

"I've thought about it, too," Derek said. "I was also worried, if it makes you feel any better."

"Why?" Stiles asked.

"We can't learn everything about one another the first time we meet, Stiles," Derek said. "We need to keep some of the mystery alive for the next time we see each other."

"So there's for sure going to be a next time?" Stiles asked excitedly.

"Most definitely."


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks later

Stiles and Derek had met up at the very least, once every other day. Stiles could feel himself falling head-over-heels in love. As he grabbed his keys from the bowl of artificial fruit near the door to the apartment, he heard his father's voice call. "Am I going to ever meet this guy?"

"Hopefully soon," Stiles replied.

"Well are you going to be home for dinner?"

"No," Stiles called. "Derek invited me over to his place."

"Oh I know what that means… Use a condom!" his father called back.

"You raised me to be a classy broad, dad," Stiles joked. "I'll only do oral."

"I could have gone the rest of my life without ever hearing you say that," he replied.

"Now you don't have to," Stiles said with a broad smile parting his lips.

"When can I expect you back?"

"Around 11:00?" Stiles said unsure. "If I'm going to be later, I'll call."

"I love you, son," his dad said as he walked out the door.

Stiles sent a text to Derek.  _ **I'll be there in 30 mins.**_  Derek wanted him to go to the Met. Stiles hailed a taxi. After the Met, he was going back to Derek's apartment. This was going to be the first time he'd actually see where Derek lived. He wished that Derek would potentially make a move. Even a kiss would be nice. He was beginning to fear he was going to be friend-zoned.

He met Derek outside the museum. Derek smiled gave him a friendly hug. The two entered the museum and Derek pulled out his credit card to pay for their admission, despite the fact that Stiles had his cash in hand. "Put that away. It's no good here."

Stiles felt his heart flutter. If Derek was paying, did that mean they were on a real date? Derek hooked his arm around Stiles' and led him. "Where are we going?" Stiles asked as Derek dragged him through the museum.

"I want to show you my favorite painting," Derek said, leading him into the room where it hung. His ability to bring Stiles straight to it told him that Derek must have visited this painting often. When they reached it, Derek gestured as if to say "Ta-da!" and Stiles wondered if this was a joke. "It's called  _Composition_. Isn't it great?" he asked, teeming with excitement.

Stiles cocked his head to the side. "It's just a bunch of lines and a few squares of color." He couldn't help but to allow the degree to which he was disappointed by it leak into his voice.

Derek picked up on it and repositioned Stiles in front of it. He leaned down so that their heads were right beside one another and pointed. "The beauty of it is in its simplicity. Every single painting, from the masters of old to the people in art schools at this very moment learning to hone their craft owe what they do to the image in front of us. Lines and the three primary colors are the most basic components of every single great work of art ever created. Each one of them is a mixture of what you're looking at right now."

"That's really cool and all," Stiles replied. "But I'm a little confused as to why we're discussing art history…"

"Because," Derek said, grabbing Stiles' arm and gently caressing the place where his name appeared in the elegant script that all Soulmate Marks were written in. "We need to remember going into this that each of us has a complex history and an even more complicated future. However, if you and I can be honest with one another and see each other in our most basic components, I think we have a shot at building something pretty great between us. Do you agree?"

Stiles felt his stomach flutter. Did this mean they were going to move to the next steps in their relationship? He nodded and stole a chaste kiss from Derek's scruffy cheek. "I agree," he said.

"Good," Derek said, stepping back and looking at him. His eyes shone brightly. In that building, they were surrounded by some of the most beautiful works of art from throughout human history, yet nothing within those walls was as beautiful, Stiles thought, as Derek's eyes.

They walked around the museum for a while before Derek finally led them out. He hailed a cab and they rode, still occasionally talking. Derek asked how his final months of high school were going. "Well, I got into every college I applied to. I have a full ride scholarship from NYU if I join their swimming and diving team. Winning a state championship and setting a new record apparently gets you pretty far."

"Congrats!" Derek exclaimed. "Are you planning on accepting it?"

"Yeah. In all the time I've lived in New York, I don't think I've ever once even been to Brookyln, so going there every day for class will be an interesting twist…" he replied.

"Brooklyn isn't that bad. Some of the best pizza you can find in New York is in Brooklyn," Derek said.

"I live near Little Italy. If you're telling me Brooklyn has better pizza than Lombardi's on Spring Street, then you're officially insane," Stiles said.

Derek laughed loudly. "You've gone native, Mr. Stilinski."

Stiles made a face as though hearing that sentence made him ill. "Please never call me that again. That's my dad's name."

"Duly noted."

When the cab came to a stop, Derek handed over some cash, telling the driver to keep the change. Stiles was actually shocked to see how close they lived. Derek's apartment was on the block that most closely bordered the edge of SoHo and Nolita.

Derek led the way up the stairs and to the studio apartment he shared. The closer they got, the more intense the smells of food became. As he opened the door, Stiles realized the scents he had been enjoying were coming from the apartment. "How have you been cooking a meal if you've been with me all day?"

As they entered the apartment, Stiles saw someone setting the food onto the table. Three places were set. "Hey guys!" the other guy said.

"You didn't tell me you had a roommate," Stiles whispered to Derek as he waved at the other guy who waved back.

Derek led Stiles to the table and pulled out a chair for him, a move Stiles found to be as sexy as it was polite. The other guy finished setting the table and then joined them as well. "Derek said we'd be having a guest for dinner, but he didn't mention anything about you being so cute!"

"Uh thanks!" Stiles said. He watched Derek who began serving himself, so Stiles followed his lead. "The food smells amazing, by the way."

"Thanks!" the other guy replied cheerfully before turning to Derek. "By the way, are you going to introduce us or…"

"Oh! Of course," Derek said, as if he hadn't even considered the fact he would need to. "Jordan, this is Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is Jordan."

Jordan froze. He knew that last name well. He had only seen it every single time he saw his boyfriend shirtless. "Your soulmate?" Jordan asked. His voice no longer was the warm voice of a happy host.

"And you're his roommate?" Stiles asked innocently.

Jordan had the same bright green eyes as Derek. They were moving angrily between the two other men at the table. "Actually I'm his—"

Derek gestured to cut him off. "Stiles, remember what I said earlier about getting to know one another at our most basic components… I didn't know how to tell you about Jordan. But this is something important that you need to know." Derek paused and swallowed hard. "I've been with him for a around seven years. We had never really planned for what we would do if you ever came into the picture. I've come to care a lot about you over the last few weeks, so I wanted you to meet him."

Both Stiles and Jordan looked angry and hurt. "You should have said something about him in the beginning," Stiles said. His voice was thin and cracking. "I was so stupid. I need to go."

He stood up and headed to the door.

"Stiles, don't leave… please!" Derek begged. "This affects all of us. We need to talk about it."

"And you couldn't think of a better way to introduce us than to surprise us with one another? Maybe you're not the kind of person I thought you were," Stiles said. "I'm sorry, but I don't want anything to do with you anymore…"

"Well congratulations, Derek," Jordan said, staying firmly planted. In the course of this, he had already drained one glass of wine and was desperately needing another. "This is the most insensitive thing I've ever seen you do. You hurt us both."

"Don't speak for me," Stiles said sharply. "I'm not hurt. I'm fucking pissed. I can't believe I thought I had fallen in love with you! Go to Hell, Derek."

Stiles ran out, not letting the tears that were stinging his eyes fall until he was outside. Derek moved to follow him, but Jordan blocked his path. Stiles walked the entire way home, steadily crying. He had never felt so humiliated before in his life. As he got home, he dropped his keys in the bowl of fake fruit. His dad was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water. "How'd it go?" he asked before seeing the look on his son's face. The moment he did, his demeanor changed instantly. "What happened?"

"I've been such an idiot, dad," Stiles managed to say before he completely broke down. His dad came up and wrapped his arms around him. Stiles reached up, burying his head into his dad's shoulders as he sobbed. "He has a boyfriend."

* * *

In SoHo

"Derek, what you did was not only stupid, it was cruel. Did you ever take a moment to think how I might feel?" Jordan asked. "I have lived in fear every single day that he would one day make an appearance and suddenly I wouldn't be enough and then you would leave me for him. "

"Why didn't you say anything about that fear before?" Derek asked. He knew he couldn't argue. He didn't have a leg to stand on. In hindsight, what he had done was incredibly idiotic.

"Because how horrible of a person would it make me to expect you to turn away your Soulmate just because I no longer have one?" Jordan replied. "I was relying on the statistical improbability of you ever meeting him. I love you so much, Derek, which is why I hoped I would never be put in this position… and then you invited him to dinner without telling me!"

"To be fair, I did say he was coming to dinner," Derek interjected.

Jordan looked murderous. "Are you really going to argue the semantics of your insensitivity? Are you fucking insane? You're lucky  _I_  don't tell you to go to Hell, too. How long have you known him?"

"You're right," Derek said. "I'm sorry. We met at the runway show I did a few weeks ago. I wanted to check him out before I brought him up to you to see if I actually liked him at all."

"And you do," Jordan said. "I can see it… you've acted differently the last few weeks. You've been happier than I've seen you in a really long time." He was tearing up and he really wish he weren't. "I didn't know why… but now I do and it is agonizing for me to know that after seven years I can't make you nearly as happy as a few weeks of being around him."

"I didn't think this through, Jordan. And I hurt you. I know. And I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself for how callously I treated your feelings and the life we've built with one another," Derek said.

"Did you fall in love with him?" Jordan asked, trying to head Derek off before he was talked into forgiving so quickly.

"Jordan… come on," Derek pleaded. "I can tell this conversation is hurting you. I don't want to keep twisting the knife…"

"Why not, Derek?" he replied. "Because you were the one who stabbed me in the back to begin with. Answer the question… please. Did you fall in love with him?"

"If you just got to know him…" Derek started.

"I thought so…" Jordan said softly. Tears began streaking down his face. He grabbed his keys and headed to the door.

"Jordan… wait… please don't walk out on me. We can work through this," Derek said weakly. Under the immense weight of how badly he screwed up, he could barely move.

"I can't compete with your soulmate, Derek. I don't know why you would even ask me to," he said.

"Would you at least tell me where you're going so I don't worry?" Derek asked, resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't convince his boyfriend to stay.

"I'll be in a hotel tonight and if I decide I want to see your face again, and that's a  _really_  big 'if,' I'll let you know," Jordan replied before closing the door behind himself, leaving Derek alone with the only the company of his fuckup.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Jordan came back into the apartment to see Derek sitting alone at the table, moving the cheerios around in his cereal bowl. Derek looked up and relief washed over him at the sight of his boyfriend. Despite being an internationally renowned model, he looked awful. His eyes were red and puffy, made all the more noticeable by the dark circles that were evidence that he hadn't slept. "You came back…" he said.

Jordan sat down. He didn't look at Derek, but rather stared off into space. His peripheral vision took in the home they had built with one another. "It's hard to walk away from someone you've loved for seven years. Especially when he's your everything…"

"You know… last night was the first night I've spent without you since I can't even remember when," Derek said. "I have  _never_  felt as lonely or awful as I did knowing that I hurt you and I hurt him."

"No," Jordan said. "You hurt me. You destroyed him."

"I don't even know what was going on in my head," Derek said.

"You were in love," Jordan replied. His voice strained. "I don't have it in me from stopping you from pursuing him."

"I don't think I can let you go," Derek said. "If last night was any indication… I honestly don't think I'd survive it."

"I'm not your Soulmate, though," Jordan pointed out bitterly. "He is."

Derek reached across the table, taking Jordan's hands in his own. "But that doesn't negate everything you and I have. Just because his name is on my skin doesn't mean that yours isn't on my heart."

"Derek, you can't have your cake and eat it, too!" Jordan said. "You just get one Soulmate. That's why there's only one name on your skin."

"This isn't fair to him, either," Derek said.

"And you're the one who dragged him into it," Jordan reminded him. "You need to fix that."

"There's no way he'll even look my way again," Derek said.

"If you're asking me advice on how to win back another guy, you're fucking insane. I'm not getting involved in that entire clusterfuck and it's really unfair of you to ask me to," Jordan said. "Please… for once… think about how awful this experience is for me."

* * *

In Nolita, two days later

"Stiles, you have to eat," his father said as he knocked on the door.

"I don't want to," Stiles called back.

"It's been two days. Starving yourself isn't going to help anything," his dad said. "I'm going to work, but if you haven't eaten anything by the time I get back, there's going to be a problem."

Stiles heard the front door close and curled up into a ball. His phone vibrated. He checked it, though he didn't need to. Once again, it was Derek.  _ **I'm so sorry, Stiles. I never meant to hurt you.**_

This made, what Stiles estimated, the thirtieth text of that nature. He hadn't responded to any of them, which was why he wondered, even as he was doing it, why he was taking the time to respond to this one.  _ **You broke my heart, Derek. Please don't contact me again.**_

It felt like a hole in his chest every time he even thought of Derek. He had taken to covering his Mark from sight, something he hadn't done since he came to New York, with the exception of a few modeling gigs where it had been required. He had never known that pain could be so absolute.

But his father had a point. Lying around in bed was punishing nobody but himself. What did Derek Hale care if he starved away beneath his covers? He got up and showered before heading out. He wanted to look over the Hudson. There were times when he was feeling down that looking out over the Hudson made him feel better because, at the very least, he could remind himself that he did not, in fact, live in New Jersey. However, he didn't have the energy or money to go the highly circuitous route that would allow him to get to the Hudson without going through SoHo and risking seeing Derek. So instead, he headed in the opposite direction, toward the East River, which separated Manhattan Island from Brookyln, where he would soon be able to go to attend college. He hoped that he could save enough money to get an apartment over there and then he could erase Derek from his life altogether… aside from the permanent mark on his arm, that was.

The cacophony that was New York City filled his ears in a cathartic way. He didn't eat the food his father had wanted him to eat, but instead he grabbed a hot dog from a street vendor. His stomach was still twisted in knots, but it felt good to eat something. When he reached the waterfront, the breeze blasted him in the face, carrying with it the smells of the restaurants upwind of him. He checked his email, finding a few from his agent asking him about some gigs and decided to accept all of them. Maybe working would help pull him out from his doldrums.

His phone vibrated. A phone call was coming in from a number he didn't recognize. Thinking it might be related to one of the gigs he had just accepted, he answered it. "Hey Stiles?" came a voice that was familiar, but difficult to place.

"Who is this?" Stiles asked.

"My name is Jordan Parrish… we met the other night…" he began.

"I don't want any trouble… I've told Derek not to contact me anymore. I didn't know you and him were a couple," Stiles said.

"Listen," Jordan said. "I understand… I was hoping we could talk."

"I honestly don't think we have a lot to talk about," Stiles said.

"That's where we disagree," Jordan replied. "Look. I get how awkward this is… believe me I do. And if you're mad at Derek, then that just means you're a normally functioning human. But will you please meet with me? We can go out for coffee. I'll buy."

"Fine. But if after ten minutes, I don't like what you have to say, I reserve the right to leave," Stiles said.

"Sounds like a deal. Meet me at the Starbucks on Spring Street?"

"Ok. I'll be there in a bit," he replied, heading back in the direction he came. The entire way there, he wondered what Jordan would possibly have to talk to him about and whether or not he even wanted to hear it. At least he had his out.

The Starbucks was crowded, as usual, but Stiles saw Jordan almost instantly. He sat down with him at the table. "Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Jordan said pleasantly.

"Did Derek send you?" Stiles asked, trying to get straight to the point.

"No. He has no idea I'm here talking to you," Jordan replied.

"A relationship built on mutual trust, I see," Stiles said.

"If you're pissed off at him, I completely understand," Jordan said. "I'm kind of pissed at the entire situation, myself. But he's a good guy."

"How can you say that about him after what he did to you?" Stiles demanded. "Good guys don't do that to people."

"Because it's hard to walk away from seven years with someone you love," he replied. "One moment of insensitivity doesn't negate a life I've built with him."

"Why would you build a life with someone else's soulmate?" Stiles asked, unaware of how rude his question was.

Jordan recognized that Stiles simply didn't know. "Because my soulmate died a long time ago. He and I were best friends growing up and I felt like the luckiest guy on earth." As he spoke, Stiles noticed his eyes became a little glassy. "He was killed in a car accident. He was driving home from my house and a drunk driver hit him. He was killed instantly. My Mark faded and I felt like… I felt like I was burning from the inside. I thought I was dying, too. After, I felt empty. I felt like I had nothing to live for. It was the most horrible feeling I've ever experienced."

Stiles sighed. "I'm sorry that happened to you. But what does this have to do with Derek and how much of an asshole he is?"

"Because eventually, I got so low and tried to kill myself. It was Derek who quite literally talked me off the ledge and showed me that there's a reason to continue on. He's not a bad person, Stiles. He just made a bad decision and he is suffering right now more than I care to see," Jordan said.

"But he lied to me," Stiles said. "Given that I used to lie to my dad all the time, I'm kind of an expert at spotting when someone is  _really_  good at hiding the truth. I had no idea you even existed before he sprang me on you. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Like I said, he made a bad decision. But he really is beating himself up over it. He knows he screwed up," Jordan said. "I don't think I'm going to be able to survive seeing him like this."

"I don't care," Stiles said. "I'm sorry, but a few words from you doesn't make up for the fact that he broke my heart."

"I get that. Believe me, I do. Which is why  _I'm_  asking you to talk to him. It makes me physically ill to see him so upset," Jordan said. "I'd consider it a personal favor. Please, Stiles… I'm desperate."

Stiles remained silent for a few minutes. "You really love him, don't you?"

"More than anything," Jordan replied.

Stiles sighed. "Fine… I'll talk to him, but you owe me a pastry, too."

Jordan flashed his brilliantly white smile. "I think I can manage that."


	5. Chapter 5

Derek and Jordan's loft in SoHo

Stiles, Derek, and Jordan all sat around the dining room table. The room was filled with an oppressive awkward silence that not even the usual sounds of sirens and traffic could penetrate. Stiles couldn't even make himself look at Derek, so he stared at a spot on the wall past him. Finally, Derek stood up. "Stiles, I need you to say something, please. This is killing me."

"This isn't a stroll through Central Park for me, either, you know," Stiles replied, still making it a point to have his eyes avoid falling on Derek.

"I know what I did to you and Jordan was terrible. I want to make it up to you if I even can at this point," Derek said. His voice wasn't the strong, bright, sexy voice that Stiles had fallen in love with. It was weak, sullen, and desperate.

"You lied to me and basically cheated on your boyfriend," Stiles said stubbornly. "So if you can explain that away, I'd be happy to hear it."

"I have no way of justifying my behavior, other than to say my head was clouded by how much I liked you. And it's not an excuse," Derek looked sadly toward Jordan. "I hurt someone I love  _so_ much." He then turned back to Stiles. "And I made my soulmate hate me."

"If you're looking for pity, you're not getting it," Stiles said coldly as he sat back defiantly in his chair.

"I don't deserve your pity," Derek replied. "But I want the chance to try and make it up to you."

"No." Stiles' reply came quickly, cutting through the air like a knife.

"Stiles, please," came the reply. To both Stiles' and Derek's shock, it came from Jordan. "The Derek you fell in love with is really a good guy. That smart, funny, kind person… that's really him. That's the Derek I fell in love with, too. It's who he is at his core."

"But if I forgive him and we go back to the way it was before, I become the homewrecker who broke up your relationship," Stiles said, shaking his head. "I can't have that on my conscience."

"What if you didn't have to?" Jordan asked, causing both Derek and Stiles to cock their heads to the side in curiosity.

"What do you mean?" they both asked in unison.

Jordan took a deep breath. "You two are soulmates. I don't want you to miss out on what could be an amazing life together. That said, I don't know that I want to walk away from what we have, either… So I'm suggesting that the three of us try to be together… as a triad…"

"Or a thrupple?" Stiles added, causing the other two men to snigger a bit.

"Yeah… a thrupple," Jordan agreed.

"I'm not sure," Stiles said hesitantly.

"It was just a thought," Jordan added. "You seem like a really cool guy and we can always re-evaluate if we see that it isn't working."

"I want to earn your trust back… both of you," Derek added with a serious note. "Maybe it will be easier if the three of us are in a relationship together. I promise I will never lie to either of you ever again."

"You better not," both Stiles and Jordan said at the same time with the same imperious inflection in their voices. Their eyes caught one another and they began to laugh a little.

"So how exactly did you two meet?" Stiles asked, wanting to better understand the dynamics behind the relationship he had, apparently, just joined.

Stiles and Derek shared a look that indicated to Stiles that their history was more powerful and involved than just the little that Stiles knew about Derek preventing Jordan from committing suicide. As they began telling the story, Stiles got the feeling that they had told it many times before and sat back, listening to their verbal pas-de-deux.

* * *

_NYC, A little more than 7 years ago_

_The loud sobs woke Derek from his already restless sleep. He heard them coming in through his window, which he always left slightly open, hoping to catch the occasional breeze. He pushed the covers off of himself and walked over to his window where he pushed it up and stuck his head out. He could see someone on the fire escape, a few windows over from him. He was climbing over the railing, crying loudly as he did. "Hey!" Derek called. "What are you doing?"_

" _I have to do this…" came the boy's response._

_As the realization dawned on him, Derek's eyes widened and he climbed out onto the fire escape as well. "Please tell me you aren't going to jump…" he said, his voice pleading._

" _I can't spend the rest of my life feeling this way," the boy replied, his body shuddering as he continued to cry._

" _What's your name?"_

" _Jordan," the boy said, bringing his sleeve up to his face to wipe away the tears that kept streaming down his face. "Jordan Parrish."_

" _Well, Jordan," Derek replied. "If you jump… then you_ **will** _spend the rest of your life feeling this way. Nothing is worth ending your life over… you're so young. You have so much potential… Please… just talk to me. Maybe I can help."_

" _There's nothing you can do. My soulmate died. He was my best friend… and he's dead. There's nobody else out there for me. I'd rather just join him in death than spend the rest of my life feeling so empty and full of pain," Jordan replied._

" _I'm so sorry," Derek said softly. "I can't imagine what you must be going through. It's so rare that people are able to know their soulmate at a young age. But why not live your life in a way that will do justice to his memory instead of allowing this tragedy to further devastate the people around you?"_

" _How do I move past this?" Jordan asked, hiking his leg back over the railing, shifting his weight slightly enough that Derek was less worried about his imminent death._

" _One moment at a time. Right now this pain and loneliness might seem insurmountable, but as you take one each step, eventually this will be a memory and you'll realize that you were at least lucky enough to have him in your life for as long as you did," Derek replied._

" _But there's nobody out there for me anymore," Jordan said, his eyes were shining with tears._

" _I'll be there for you," Derek replied. "For as long as you need me."_

" _But you don't even know me," Jordan said skeptically. "Why would you help me like that?"_

" _Because I want to," Derek replied, inching closer. "Just step back onto the fire escape. I'll sit and talk with you for as long as you want."_

_As Jordan hiked his other leg back over, he stumbled and fell against Derek, who caught him. The boy began sobbing again and Derek hugged him tightly, rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him._

* * *

_NYC, About a year later_

" _Derek, I don't know how we're going to make rent this month," Jordan said, his hand clenching in the way that it always did when he was stressed._

" _We'll figure it out. I can talk to my agent and see if there are any gigs we can get that will help us make up the difference," Derek said. "If not, then I'll just ask my mom… although she'll probably give me a huge 'I told you so'."_

_As if by some miraculous force, Jordan's cell phone began to ring. He didn't recognize the number. Derek did his best to listen, but could only hear Jordan's responses, which were mostly "Yeah" and "Uh huh." Then he heard. "Okay… but only if my roommate can come, too. He's also a model… yeah? That's great! We'll see you then."_

" _That sounds promising," Derek said as Jordan hung up the phone._

" _Yeah. It sounds like someone upstairs is looking out for us. I think I just booked us a gig that will let us keep the roof over our heads_ **and** _the lights on."_

" _Sounds great! When is it?"_

" _Tomorrow at 10 am," Jordan said. "So on that note, I'm going to go to bed. Looks like I'll need my beauty sleep."_

" _Awesome! I'll see you in the morning," Derek replied, heading in the opposite direction to where his own bed was set up._

_He didn't sleep well that night. The stress about rent created a ball of anxiety that seemed to sit in his chest, causing his heart to beat a little faster and his dreams to take on a creepy theme. When Jordan woke him up the next morning, it was a relief. "Hey roomie! Time to wake up. We have to be on the set soon."_

" _Can you brew coffee while I shower?" Derek asked while groggily wiping the sleep from his eyes._

" _Of course… just get up quickly!" Jordan said, heading to the kitchen area of the apartment._

_Derek dragged himself from the bed and headed to the bathroom. He set the water to go as hot as he could stand it and could actually see the steam rising from the stream of water. He showered quickly and when he emerged with a towel around his waist, he could see that not only was there coffee, but Jordan was in the middle of cooking some breakfast. "That smells great!"_

" _I can make you some, if you want," Jordan said._

" _Yes please… two over medium, if you would," Derek replied, heading behind the partition that would allow him to have a little privacy as he pulled on his clothes._

_They ate breakfast quickly and Derek slurped down the coffee and headed to the address of the shoot. "I'm so glad we got this shoot," Jordan said as they locked the door behind them. They filled the time with friendly small talk._

_When they finally got there, they saw the set and the director approached them. "Good! You're here… let's get you ready. You're both 18 right?"_

" _Yeah," they replied in unison._

" _Good. Have you decided who is going to go first?" the director asked._

_Jordan and Derek shared a look before Jordan hesitantly said, "Uh… I could go first…"_

_The director studied them for a moment. "Take your shirts off," he said. They both did without hesitation. "Alright… I actually like the way you two look together. I want the scruffy one on top and I want baby face on the bottom for the first anal scene."_

" _I'm sorry?" Jordan asked. "For the what?"_

" _The anal scene. I don't care who blows who in the first part, but we've got the first anal scene then the group scene," the director said._

" _Wait… this is a porn shoot?" Derek asked._

" _Yeah…" the director said, his patience wearing thin. "And we're behind so strip down and lets' get the lighting right."_

_The director walked away and Jordan paled. "You didn't say this was a porno," Derek whispered, feeling his ears getting hot._

_Jordan blanched. "I had no idea. If you want to leave you can… I'm sure I saw other models… I'll just… lose my virginity to one of them instead," Jordan said, realizing what this would mean._

" _Woah," Derek said. "You're a virgin? Do you really want to give that up to some random pornstar in a room full of people watching?"_

" _I don't know of any alternative," Jordan said. "They're offering the amount of money we need. I'll take this one for the team…"_

_Derek shook his head. He knew he could call his mother and get the money he needed, but his pride was getting in the way of that. "No… I'll do this with you. If you're going to lose your virginity on camera… it should at least be with someone who loves you." Neither of them realized at that moment the magnitude of what he had just said._

_They both took a deep breath and went into the room. The director told them how it was going to work. The guys removed the rest of their clothes. They were given robes to cover themselves up with until the shoot was ready. When they were finally called on, Jordan was told to lie on his back. It would start out with some making out and progress naturally from there._

* * *

Derek and Jordan's loft, Now

"Wait," Stiles said. "So your first time having sex was in a porno?"

"Yeah… we weren't even a couple at that point," Derek added. "But we did it. However, after, they wanted Jordan to do a group scene."

"They wanted me to have sex with six guys," Jordan said. "I couldn't. I felt so emotionally raw having just done what I did with Derek, but they made the group scene a requirement to get paid the full amount, which is what we needed."

"So what happened?" Stiles asked, at this point genuinely engrossed in the story and not actually imagining them having sex, which he found somewhat strange… considering they were both models and incredibly gorgeous.

"Well," Derek said. "I couldn't let him do something he wasn't comfortable with. So I convinced the director to let me do it instead. It was terrifying. I had never done anything like that before, but I had too much pride to just call my mom and ask for money. I got tested like seven times after the shoot, but Jordan and I made a promise to one another that we would never let that happen again. We worked hard and we moved up quickly through the modeling world, which isn't easy in this city. We fell in love…"

"We also found a rent-controlled apartment to make sure that we were  _never_  in the position that we needed to have sex on camera to survive ever again," Jordan added.

"But when we were actually performing the scene together, I realized something," Derek said. "I realized how much I actually cared about Jordan and suddenly it wasn't a job. I was genuinely making love to him."

"He got all emotional about it afterwards," Jordan said. "It was really adorable. But without it, I don't think either of us would have had the courage to say how we truly felt about one another."

"And sleeping in the same bed ended up freeing up quite a lot of space in the small lofts we lived in before this one," Derek added.

Stiles remained silent for a few moments before Jordan noticed the look on his face and asked him what he was thinking about. "There's so much love between you two. How am I supposed to fit into that?"

"We'll figure it out as we go along, but we just all need to be completely honest with one another as we develop whatever this is…" Jordan said.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles' apartment in NoLita, two months later

The rap on the door took Stiles out of his seeming trance. "Hey… you're alive!" his father said.

"Yeah," Stiles replied distractedly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been staying over at Derek's apartment so much lately I had to wonder whether or not you still even existed," his dad replied. "Are you ever going to bring him over so I can finally meet him? You've been seeing him for a couple of months now."

"It's more complicated than that," Stiles replied, putting the last touches on the present he had made for Jordan's birthday.

"More complicated than him having lied to you and then dumping his boyfriend to be with you?" his dad asked.

"A lot more complicated than that," Stiles replied. "You know… I never mentioned that he broke up with his boyfriend, you assumed that on your own."

Stiles' dad chuckled. "So what… are you guys in some weird polyamorous relationship or something?" Stiles blushed a little and his dad seemed to stiffen. "Oh my God, Stiles…. Tell me you're not in some weird polyamorous relationship."

"Alright, Dad," Stiles replied. "I'm not in a weird polyamorous relationship. I'm in a very fulfilling polyamorous relationship."

Stiles' dad let out a deep sigh. "If this goes south, you're going to end up more heartbroken than you were before. Why not content yourself on dating just your soulmate? Why bring in the extra person?"

"Because we didn't bring in Jordan. They brought  _me_  in. And I love them, Dad. I love both of them," Stiles said. "They've given me tons of advice for my modeling career, they're both incredibly sweet and handsome. When I'm with Derek, I feel like I can let out my inner goofball and nothing I do will be seen as stupid or childish. When I'm with Jordan, he and I connect on all the nerdy stuff I've loved my whole life. And when I'm with them both, I feel complete."

"Relationships with only two people can be hard enough, even if that person  _is_  your soulmate, Stiles," his dad said. "I don't mean to beat a dead horse, but it's my job to protect you."

"There's nothing to protect me from," Stiles said. "Now I'm going to head out…"

"Just protect yourself," his dad pleaded.

"We haven't had sex yet, but I assure you I'll use a condom," Stiles said rolling his eyes.

"I wasn't talking about that… protect your heart," his dad said softly.

"I will," Stiles said before heading outside.

The air was turning cold and Stiles zipped his hoodie up a little tighter as he rushed down the street toward Derek and Jordan's loft. This path had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. He even knew the little time-saving shortcuts. As he got there, he saw his boyfriends pulling on their coats. "Just in time!" Jordan exclaimed.

"For what?" Stiles asked, caught off guard.

"It's a surprise," Derek replied as he moved closer and left a kiss that lingered sweetly on his lips.

"I don't like surprises," Stiles protested as they ushered him out the door.

Jordan playfully swatted his ass. "You'll like this one… now move!"

Once they were downstairs, Derek flagged down a cab and they climbed into the backseat. When Derek told the address, Stiles cocked his head to the side. "Why are we going to Midtown?"

"My uncle is a photographer and he's going to have an exhibition coming up in the Agora Gallery. There's going to be an entire room devoted to a shoot he wants to do on the seven deadly sins. He asked us to be one of the sins…" Derek said.

"Which sin?" Stiles asked.

"Lust," Jordan replied, placing his hand on Stiles' upper thigh.

"But I'm not ready for a photo shoot…" Stiles protested. "I have a whole routine I do before…"

"Relax," Derek said. "Tonight isn't the actual shoot. Uncle Peter just wants to get to know you and that way he can better plan our shoot."

"Wait a sec," Stiles said slowly. "Peter… as in Peter 'Satan in a V-Neck' Hale? That man has basically hand-picked all of the models who have made it in NYC in the past five years…"

"That would be him," Derek said, smirking at the nickname. "He's a good guy. It's only the people whose careers he ended who call him that. He really wants to meet you, and if it goes well, I'll have you meet my mom and sisters, too."

"My family all lives in Florida, now," Jordan said. "And I hate that state. Derek's family has really become my family."

When they got to Peter's apartment building, Derek paid the cab driver and they all piled out. The doorman seemed to recognize Derek and Jordan and greeted them warmly. They took the elevator up to the floor and Stiles followed his boyfriends to the apartment. The man who greeted them was very recognizably related to Derek. They had the same strong jaw line, piercing eyes, and love of v-neck shirts. Where Derek was straight-laced and down to earth, everything about Peter seemed to ooze hedonism. The way Peter's blue eyes raked over him made Stiles feel like he needed to put more clothes on. "Oh Derek… you said nothing about how sexy he was…"

"Uncle Peter… if you touch him, I'll break your arm," Derek said in such a flat manner that Stiles surmised he had previously needed to protect his lovers from his uncle's poaching.

"It's not fair that you get two sexy men all to yourself and I don't have any sexy men of my own," Peter replied casually, pouring several glasses of red wine and offering them to his guests. Stiles declined, stating that he wasn't 21 yet, which made Peter smiled. "I won't tell anyone if you don't… and if the wine goes to your head and you start feeling vulnerable, well then that's when you're perfect for me..."

"Peter!" Derek warned causing his uncle to roll his eyes.

"I won't touch," he sulked. "But that doesn't mean I won't flirt."

"Derek didn't tell me he had a gay uncle," Stiles said, trying to make conversation that was less awkward.

"He doesn't," Peter replied. "I live in a world of beauty and have learned that to deny myself pleasure in any way, given the fleeting nature of life, is a horribly stupid thing to do. I'm not gay but I find that gay men do give the best blowjobs…" Stiles blushed a furious shade of red which seemed to amuse Peter. "Speaking of blowjobs… let's talk about the shoot. I want the lust photos to be the centerpiece of the seven deadly sins. Given that Stiles is only barely 18, we want to avoid anything that is overtly pornographic, of course… however I want the eroticism coming off the photos to be palpable… I want you guys to tap into the same energy you have between yourselves when you fuck."

Even though he knew he shouldn't have said anything, Stiles felt it burst out of him uncontrollably. "But I'm a virgin!"

Peter looked like he was going to choke on his wine. "Well that should be a crime… Derek, Jordan… what the fuck is wrong with you? Why haven't you stuffed him like a Thanksgiving turkey?"

"We were waiting for Stiles to tell us he was ready," Jordan replied, placing his arm lovingly and protectively around Stiles, who was so red and embarrassed that he couldn't speak.

Peter waved a finger in Stiles' direction. "What is he doing? Why is he turning into a walking tomato?"

"Because you're embarrassing him!" Derek scolded. "Stop it!"

"I can't have Sandra Dee over here fucking up the photo. It's the seven deadly sins… not the seven nauseating virtues," Peter said.

"He's a great model," Derek said. "He'll be able to do the shoot."

"He better," Peter said imperiously.

When their visit was over and they headed outside, Stiles began to freak out. "My career is over! He's right… I'm the un-sexiest person on the earth. I have all of the sex appeal of Elmer Fudd…"

"I don't appreciate you talking about my soulmate like that," Derek said.

"For what it's worth, I find you to be incredibly sexy," Jordan added.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You guys are  _supposed_  to say that. You're my boyfriends… it doesn't count."

Derek stopped him and pulled him close. "Because we're your boyfriends, it should count all the more."

"But how many times have I stayed over at you guys' place and we've never even made out!" Stiles said. They were heading down Park Avenue, the night's brisk air making Stiles' cheeks flush a brighter red than the subject of their conversation.

"Stiles, you agreed we would bring up issues we're facing immediately instead of holding onto them," Jordan said, stopping in front of Stiles. "The fact that we haven't done anything like that with you is in no way an indicator that we don't find you sexy. It's quite the opposite. Derek and I talk all the time about how sexy we think you are. But we didn't want to pressure you into doing something you weren't ready for. You  _are_  18."

"I'm older than you guys were when you met," Stiles said defensively.

"But we didn't have sex for at least a year after that because we weren't honest with one another about how we felt. If physical intimacy is something you want from us, then you need to say so because otherwise, we feel like two lecherous older guys trying to have sex with our hot young boyfriend," Derek said. He had stopped next to Jordan as well. His hand came up, resting on Stiles' cheek. "You're my soulmate, Stiles. I love you. But like Jordan said, I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want."

"Well I want this," Stiles said. "I want to know what it feels like to have sex with you… with both of you."

"Then we can do that," Jordan said. "We'll make it special for you, too."

"I don't want you to make it special," Stiles said, feeling like he was suddenly the ornery child. "I just want to be able to make out and have sex with my boyfriends without it being some kind of big to-do."

Derek sighed. "Stiles, we love you. We're trying. Give us something to work with here…"

Stiles' eyes became focused on something past Derek and Jordan. "I want us to go to that level… but please don't try to make it some super special thing. Our relationship is already out of the norm. I want this to at least seem like something normal."

"We can do that," Jordan replied.

They took a while to get to SoHo. They agreed that walking was better than trying to get a cab. The streets were a parking lot filled with shouts of expletives and honking horns and none of them cared to deal with the smells of the subway.

Stiles found himself a little tired as they rode the elevator up to Derek and Jordan's floor. It had been a long time since he had walked such a distance. He collapsed face-up on their giant bed, chuckling. Derek and Jordan climbed on next to him. They placed delicate kisses along his neck and cheeks. "I know I made a big fuss about us making out and having sex, but can I ask one more favor?"

"Anything," Jordan whispered as he nibbled affectionately on Stiles' ear.

"Can we do that tomorrow instead? I'm exhausted…"


	7. Chapter 7

Derek and Jordan's Loft in SoHo

Stiles woke to the salty, hearty scents of ham, bacon, and eggs punctuated by the sweeter notes of blueberry pancakes and maple syrup. There was another earthier aroma that Stiles couldn't place, but his mouth watered just the same. As he sat up, he attempted to shake loose the sleepy fog that clouded his mind. He could see Jordan in the kitchen, cooking dutifully as Derek danced around him, setting up the table for their breakfast feast. Derek poured three cups of coffee and Stiles watched as the steam wafted up from it, adding its own nutty print to the symphony of aromas now filling the apartment. Stiles' stomach grumbled expectantly.

"Good morning," they both said in unison as he sat down at the table.

"Jordan is making his amazing omelets," Derek said. "He uses only the best honey-cured ham, thick-cut maple-glazed bacon, and fresh Portobello mushrooms. The blueberry pancakes are also made from scratch…"

"Stop bragging about me and help me serve the food," Jordan said, blushing slightly.

"All of it smells amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?" Stiles asked.

"My parents," Jordan replied. "My mom was a gourmet chef and my father actually had his own cooking show at one point. I learned everything from them. Cooking makes me feel peaceful."

"Your cooking makes me happy that you're my boyfriend," Stiles said, taking two pancakes with his fork and placing them on his own plate as Jordan put yet another plate containing his omelet on the table beside that one.

"Well you need to make sure you eat up… You're going to need your strength," Derek said with a smirk. He passed a jug of orange juice. "I squeezed this myself. It was the only thing Jordan would let me do to prepare breakfast for you."

"What can I say?" Jordan chuckled as he cut a pancake on the large flat plate to his left. "I like to cook alone."

"Are we really going to have sex today?" Stiles asked quietly after swallowing a large, delicious piece of his omelet.

"If you want to, yes!" Derek said, trying not to sound overly excited about the prospect. In truth, he was like a toddler on Christmas morning, waiting to head downstairs to see what Santa had brought him. Electricity seemed to course through him at the thought of finally knowing his soulmate in that intimate, personal way and he had to stifle some jealousy at the thought of sharing him with Jordan. He wondered if it was just because of the soulmate bond that linked him and Stiles.

They finished their breakfast together and when they were done, Stiles felt almost too full to do anything. He helped them clean up and then after, Jordan went into the bathroom and drew a hot bath. "I'm going to help you prepare for what's about to happen," he said softly. "Have you given any thought to what role you want to have?"

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, feeling like a child as Jordan ushered him into the warm and silky bathwater.

"I mean do you want to be the top or the bottom?" Jordan clarified.

Stiles blushed, though it seemed futile given the fact that he was naked and Jordan was washing his body for him. "Both, I guess? I want to try it all. And I am not really sure how it would work with all of us, you know?"

"We can try it as many different ways as you want," Jordan said, letting his thin, nimble fingers reach between Stiles' legs. They had agreed that Derek would be the first to actually have sex with the younger man and Jordan would be watching, then join. He understood. "You're going to want to clean yourself out. It helps keep things from getting too messy. I bought plenty of condoms and lube as well, so we can try different types and see which you like best."

"I was hoping that maybe we could go without condoms…" Stiles said slowly.

"You'll have to get Derek to approve of that, too, but I'm alright if he is," Jordan said. "Now I'm going to leave you to finish washing up. I'll see you in the bedroom." He leaned forward and left a lingering kiss on Stiles' lips.

Stiles felt himself growing hard. He was about to lose his virginity to two of the hottest male supermodels in the city. He felt his pulse rising. He had to take some calming breaths to keep from putting himself in a fully-fledged anxiety attack. He let the water drain before he began the process of cleaning himself out, which was gross to him, but Jordan had told him to do it, so he did. When he was finally clean, he wondered whether or not he should put clothes on. After all, they were just going to be taken off again. He wiped the steamy fog from the mirror and took one last look at himself, knowing that the next time he looked into that mirror, he would no longer be a virgin. He found himself wondering how different it might make him feel.

In the end, he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed toward the bed where Derek and Jordan were lying, still in their pajamas. "Derek said he's alright going without condoms," Jordan said, patting the empty space on the bed between the two men.

Stiles slowly approached it. Suddenly the room seemed cold and he began to shiver. "Are you scared?" Derek asked.

"A bit," Stiles admitted.

Derek moved so that he was on top of Stiles and placed a kiss on the boy's chest, just above his right nipple. "Don't be. We're going to take good care of you. If you feel uncomfortable by something, tell us. We won't be upset. If there's something you want, make sure you tell us that, too. Your pleasure is our mission today."

"But I want this to be good for you guys, too," Stiles said hesitantly.

"Don't worry," Derek said, punctuating his words with more kisses down Stiles' lean torso. "It will be." Derek finally unwrapped Stiles' towel, revealing his naked body. His nimble fingers danced lightly along the boy's pulsating shaft then grabbed it more firmly, stroking it. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"For what?" Stiles' voice was thick and breathy as he watched Derek.

"This," Derek, replied, slowly lowering his lips to the rigid organ, letting his tongue play lightly with the ridges and contours of it. A series of loud exclamations came out of Stiles' mouth as he arced his back.

"That feels amazing!" he gasped as Jordan moved in, kissing his young boyfriend passionately. Stiles moaned into Jordan's mouth as Derek eased one lube-covered finger into his lover and began the process of prepping him for the main event to follow. "I'm getting close already!" he exclaimed and immediately Derek backed off of his cock, not wanting to spoil the fun just yet. Stiles, admittedly, looked disappointed.

"He's not done just yet," Jordan assured him.

When he had sufficiently prepped his young soulmate, he moved between Stiles' legs. "This is going to hurt at first. I'll go slowly. Just let me know if it's too much, ok?"

Stiles nodded, unable to form words. He felt as Derek moved, pushing at him. He breathed in, trying to let Derek inside him. It hurt at first, like Derek had warned. There was an intense burn. "Wait…" he said. Derek paused, allowing him time to adjust, and only continued when Stiles gave him the nod to do so.

 _I'm no longer a virgin_ , he thought to himself.

Feeling somewhat left out, Jordan began leaving kisses down Stiles' body as Derek had and when his lips got to Stiles' cock, he took it into his mouth. Derek began to thrust in and out, working himself deeper and deeper until he finally had his entire length buried in his soulmate. He had never felt more connected to another human being before in his life. It was as if the world had stopped for a moment and there was only them. He felt a pulsing from within and for a second, he thought it was his heartbeat thudding against his ears with the intensity of the moment they were sharing, but he knew his heartbeat. This was different. This was his and Stiles' heartbeats perfectly synchronized. Derek didn't have to ask Stiles if he was feeling the same thing. He knew instinctually that he was.

When the world flooded back to them, they both came in what was the most intense orgasm of their lives. Stiles leaned up and kissed Derek. He needed to have the taste of his soulmate's mouth on his tongue.

They collapsed back down as their adrenaline and endorphin-based high slowly subsided. Jordan knew they had just shared something special and let them have their moment, a twinge of jealousy tugging at his chest. But Derek, ever dutiful, knew that he couldn't leave his other boyfriend out. "Stiles, do you want to try sucking Jordan?"

"Yeah," Stiles said enthusiastically. Jordan moved so that he was straddling Stiles' chest. The head of his cock rested gently on Stiles' lips. Stiles stuck out his tongue, licking the smooth skin before wrapping his lips around the head and attempting to replicate what the other two had done to him. After a while, they got into a position where Stiles was slowly thrusting in and out of Jordan while Derek did the same to Stiles.

It took hours, but they finally tired themselves after trying every possible permutation of their bodies. When they were, at long last, completely spent, they fell asleep with Stiles between them, his head nestled into Derek's neck and chest and with his legs intertwined in Jordan's. He could feel Jordan's cock on his back.

They slept for the afternoon, waking up as their stomachs began to growl. The apartment stunk of sex and sweat. They stripped the sheets from the bed, needing to wash them as semen had leaked from each of them and stained the silky maroon bedding.

They showered together, playfully kissing and caressing each other's bodies. Jordan slipped a finger into Stiles as he stroked the younger man's cock, causing him to throw his head back against Derek and moan. "The perk of an 18 year old boyfriend is the 18 year old libido…" he said, catching the boy as his legs buckled from pleasure.

"I just love seeing the look of ecstasy on his face," Jordan admitted, leaning forward and kissing Stiles deeply and passionately. He took immense joy in bringing him to orgasm yet again.

When they were finished with the shower, all were agreed that they were hungry. "I don't have the energy to cook anything," Jordan admitted.

"How about Vietnamese food?" Stiles suggested. "There's a great place up the street…"

"I'm game," Jordan and Derek replied in unison. They all dressed silently before heading downstairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter Hale's Apartment, Midtown

Peter noticed the difference the moment they walked through the door. "You're no longer a virgin," he said, a coy smile parting his lips almost devilishly. He looked at his nephew. "Was the cherry as sweet as I imagined?"

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Uncle Peter…" he said. The name carried a warning that didn't need to be said. The way Peter's face changed in response told Derek that it was well understood.

"For the shoot, you all need to be naked, though the photo will only show you from the waist up," Peter said, showing them where he had already set up the lighting for the photograph.

The energy between the three models was palpable. Stiles had been intimate with at least one of his boyfriends each day since the day he lost is virginity and had shared the bed with them nearly every night. He was now so familiar and comfortable with their bodies that he required little direction from Peter who was busily snapping photographs, knowing he would be developing a couple of the photos of Stiles and Jordan for his own amusement later on. The first caress of his boyfriends' fingers brought him immediately to an erection, which he fervently apologized for. "I'm so sorry! That's so unprofessional," he said. They'd had sex earlier that day just to prevent this from happening.

"Don't be," Peter replied. "It generates more authenticity. Remember, this shoot is about lust. The interactions between you three need to be pornographic. It's my editing that will make it suitable for public view."

"So you're asking us to have sex… in front of you?" Derek clarified.

"Given that you're my nephew, believe me, it's awkward enough for me. But I need the raw passion to come across. If you fake it, the camera will notice," Peter replied.

"Can you give us a moment?" Derek asked his uncle.

"Certianly," Peter replied, putting down his camera and leaving the room.

When Derek was certain they had their privacy, he looked straight at Jordan. "How do you feel about this? It breaks our rule…"

"Is it too late for us to negotiate final approval of the chosen stills?" Jordan asked.

Derek shook his head. He would make sure he previewed the images used before they went to the gallery. "What about you, Stiles? Are you okay with this?"

"I trust you to choose only photos that you think are appropriate," Stiles replied, but lowered his voice. "I just don't like the way he keeps looking at me. I feel like I'm being eye-raped…"

"I'll tell him to stop," Derek promised. "But what are you comfortable doing in front of him?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know… honestly, I think it's a little weird that he is asking us to do this and he's your uncle… He never like… gave you the bad touch or anything, did he?"

"Oh god no!" Derek said. "My uncle and I have actually always been really close. He just thinks that the limitations people place on sex are illogical. A lot of his art is aimed at expressing sexuality in its many forms. I've modeled for him before, because I understand his work. He really doesn't mean any harm. He just doesn't understand that not everyone is as open about sex as he is."

"Ok," Stiles replied hesitantly. "Then I guess we can do some hands stuff and rutting and see how it goes from there?"

"Alright. If you are uncomfortable by anything, I'll have him stop the shoot," Derek replied before leaving the room to fetch his uncle. He was gone for several minutes, leaving Jordan and Stiles to make out and try to get back into the mood.

When Derek returned with his uncle in tow, they resumed their activities with Peter giving the occasional direction. It took a half an hour before Peter finally put down the camera. Stiles estimated that he had to have taken thousands of photos. "You guys were all great!" he said. "But I'm tired of seeing you hanging brain in my apartment when I have no chance of fucking the two of you who are not related to me."

They pulled on their clothes and Peter poured some drinks. He passed one to Stiles who sniffed it and immediately set it down. "I'm 18… I shouldn't be drinking alcohol…"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I think I just changed my mind about you. Suddenly you seem boring."

"We'll make sure nothing happens to you if you want to drink," Jordan said, trying to soften the effect that Peter's insult had visibly taken on Stiles.

"Why do you act like that?" Stiles asked bluntly.

"What do you mean?" Peter countered, a look of bored amusement crossing his face.

"You act like you're better than anybody around you… that they're all just tools for your disposal," Stiles said.

"Stiles!" Derek interjected.

Peter stood up, putting a hand out to silence his nephew. "No… by all means… I'd love to answer his question." He took a swig of his drink and approached Stiles. "I act that way because, frankly, I am. It is my job to capture life in motion. To do that, I need to be above it. I have to accept the fact that I'm nothing like the rest of you… I'm nothing like my manic pixie dreamboy nephew… his boyfriend… you… So I'm going forgive this little outburst because you didn't know any better. But you've overstayed your welcome. I'll see you at the show."

* * *

The Night of the Art Show, 3 Weeks Later

Stiles felt a nervous gnawing at his insides to the extent that he felt like he would vomit at any moment as he got dressed. "What should I wear to this?" his dad asked.

"Something nice. Basically everyone who is anyone is going to be here," Stiles said. "And Derek and Jordan are almost here! Hurry up!"

"I must admit that I'm still not totally stoked on seeing a photo of you basically doing your two boyfriends on display for everyone to see," his father said for what felt like the millionth time.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's an artistic display of the sin of lust… it's not pornographic and there's nothing showing below my waist!"

A knock on the door told Stiles that Derek and Jordan were here. He quickly opened the door and welcomed them in, sharing a brief kiss with both of them. His father cleared his throat as Derek deepened his kiss. Derek stopped kissing and blushed. "Sorry…"

"Which tie?" his dad asked.

Jordan cocked his head to the side, studying Stiles' father's outfit. "No tie… it looks better that way…"

"Good. I hate ties."

They travelled together in silence to the Agora Gallery. Stiles could see that it was already rather crowded. They climbed out of the cab and headed in, spotted instantly by Peter who broke off the conversation he had been having and approached them. "Welcome!" he said, beaming. "You're going to love it. Once I make my speech in a few minutes, the remainder of the rooms will be open for view. I designed it to work counter clockwise… so go through it that way." His eyes raked over Stiles' dad in a manner that was nearly impossible to read.

As he walked away, Stiles' dad leaned over whispering into his son's ear, "I'm not so sure I like him… I am absolutely positive that I don't like the fact you had sex in front of him."

"Dad… tonight could be a big night for my career… just try to enjoy it… please?" Stiles begged, understanding completely his father's sentiment.

A loud noise erupted from the speakers set up in the space and silence swept through the gallery as all eyes turned to Peter Hale who looked perfectly at ease with his wine glass in his hand and the attention of the attendees. "Welcome everyone! I'm incredibly excited about debuting this show. I decided to entitle this exhibition 'Raw Humanity' because I feel that it truly portrays humanity in its glory, both flawed and fantastic. The beginning of the show portrays the mundanity of life and the beauty it shows and ends with the part I'm most excited about, my 7 Deadly Sins photo series. So eat, drink, and enjoy this show!" He raised his wine glass just as a waiter handed a glass to Stiles. His father looked at him with a glare that needed no explanation. Under no circumstances was he to drink that wine.

Stiles politely accepted it and handed it off to Derek. "Looks like you're drinking for two, my love!"

They waited for the majority of the crowd to disperse before they made their way through the show. When Stiles saw the Lust photos, however, he was astonished. Peter had perfectly captured the way he felt about his boyfriends. The last photo actually showed the palpable love and adoration he felt.

His father took him aside. "You really love them, don't you?"

"Yeah," Stiles replied without hesitation. "I do."

After the show, Stiles was, admittedly, tired. However Jordan and Derek seemed to be teeming with energy. Peter stood between them, his arms around their necks. "There's a bar with drag queens who are drop-dead gorgeous a few blocks from here… anyone want to come?" he asked.

"Should I remind you that my son is only 18?" Stiles' dad said tersely.

"It's alright, Mr. Stilinski," Jordan assured him. "We would never let any harm come to him. I'll also be staying sober to ensure nothing bad happens."

"Fine," Stiles' dad said begrudgingly. "But I want a text message the moment you get home, got it, Stiles?"

"Yes sir," Stiles said. His dad hugged him and then turned to catch a cab to bring himself home.

"You guys are in for a treat!" Peter said, steering them all in the direction of the bar.

The bouncer outside put his hand up to block Stiles' entrance. "Did you really expect to get him in here? He looks barely old enough to be going to prom."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You were his same age when I split you open and had you screaming out my name."

"I believe what I said was 'Oh God,'" the bouncer countered, relaxing his arm.

"Yeah… my name," Peter said, flashing his smile. He moved out from between Derek and Jordan and put his arm protectively around Stiles. "Don't worry. I'll make sure he stays out of trouble."

When they got into the club, Stiles leaned toward Peter, "Who haven't you fucked?"

"You," Peter replied. He paused for a few moments before adding, "yet…"

"I think you meant 'never'," Stiles replied, slinking out from under his arm. The emcee greeted Peter by name before introducing the first performer, who was doing a tribute to Gladys Knight.

Her final song was 'Midnight Train to Georgia' in which she pulled Jordan and Derek on stage to sing the backup. Both of them looked straight at Stiles as they did.

"They love you," Peter said.

"Do you love anyone?" Stiles asked him.

"I love myself… and I love my family," Peter replied.

"Don't you have a soulmate?" Stiles asked.

Peter pulled down his shirt collar, showing the spot beneath his clavicle, the same spot where Derek's Soulmate Mark was. However it just said "Peter Hale".

"You don't have a Soulmate…" Stiles said softly.

"It's incredibly rare, but it has left me free to do other things… and people. Most people waste their entire lives searching for their Soulmate. Not me," Peter said.


	9. Chapter 9

SoHo Loft, One Year Later

Stiles had been living with Jordan and Derek for a few months. Somehow, he thought this would be easier. Before, it had been fun and exciting, but now, he lived with a constant level of anxiety. He tensed every time one of them stopped to talk to him, afraid he'd get in trouble because he came home late from class or forgot to wash a dish in the sink. It didn't go unnoticed. As they all snuggled in one night, Derek brought it up.

"Are you happy living with us?" he asked.

"Yeah," Stiles replied cautiously. "Why?"

"You seem uncomfortable all the time… much less like yourself," Derek answered. "Jordan and I were wondering if it was something we had done."

"No," Stiles said. "It's not you guys… I just… This is my first relationship. I'm afraid I'm going to do something wrong and piss you guys off and you'll break up with me."

Jordan squeezed him comfortingly and rested his head on Stiles' shoulder. "We would never do that. We love you, Stiles."

"I love you guys, too… I'm just new to this, you know?" Stiles said, once again feeling like a child.

"We'll help you. We've been in a relationship for a long time, but we're as new to the whole three-way relationship as you are. That's why we created the rules we did when we started this. When you're feeling like this, you need to let us know so we can address it," Derek said.

"I just felt like I was being childish or insecure or something," Stiles replied apologetically.

"As your boyfriends, it's our job to lift you up when you're feeling like that," Jordan added.

The two of them hugged Stiles tightly, showering him with kisses and reassurances.

* * *

Three Months Later

It was getting warmer outside, but not warm enough that Stiles could go outside without at least a light jacket. His phone vibrated with a message from Derek.  _ **Are you almost here?**_

_**Give me like two minutes tops…** _

Soon, he was at the agreed upon place. He pulled the door open and could see that the artist was finishing up with Derek. The name 'Jordan Parrish' gleamed, the skin around it enflamed. "Have you decided where you're going to get it?" Derek asked as the tattoo artist began prepping for him.

"I was thinking on my other arm in the same place your name is," Stiles replied.

"I like!" Derek said. "And this was a great idea, Stiles… I think it's going to be the best birthday present Jordan has ever gotten."

Stiles sat down where Derek had been. The sensation of the needle as it began to mark Jordan's name felt like a knife. Stiles tensed, but the pain slowly dulled to a mild burning. Stiles smiled up at Derek who smiled back. "All done," the tattoo artist announced, setting down the needle. Stiles finally was able to look. It was identical to Derek's, though in a different spot.

Derek paid for the tattoos and they headed home, stopping to pick up some flowers and a cake. Stiles was doing his best to hide his arm from view as he held out the flowers. "Happy birthday!" he said in a sing-song voice as Jordan approached them laughing.

After remaining silent for a moment Derek said, "You were searching for your present… weren't you?"

Jordan blushed. "Yeah…"

"Well it's not something you can really unwrap," Stiles said.

Jordan kissed him. "I told you that your dicks didn't count…"

"That's only the icing on top," Stiles said seductively as Jordan took the flowers and Derek placed the cake on the counter. The two of them shared a look before revealing their tattoos to Jordan at the same time. At first Jordan lit up and smiled brightly but then he covered his mouth with his hand and turned away, flushing bright red as he began to cry. Both Derek and Stiles moved to comfort him.

"Baby what's wrong?" Derek asked as he sobbed against them.

Stiles ran his fingers through Jordan's thick brown hair. "I love you guys," Jordan managed to say.

"The other part of your gift is that we're going to pay to get our names tattooed on you… if you want to," Stiles said.

Jordan clutched them tighter, "You guys are the best." He knew exactly where he was getting his tattoos. Derek's name was going to go on his collarbone and Stiles' name would be placed on his arm, where their soulmate Marks were.

When he could finally stop crying, Jordan sat down at the table. Derek and Stiles sat with him. "Stiles, I was always terrified of Derek finding you because I thought it would mean that I'd lose him. I never imagined that him finding you would mean I'd gain something. After my soulmate died, I never thought I could have someone who would love me in the way that only a soulmate could… but you both have proven me wrong."

"I'm glad," Stiles said smiling. "I would never have taken Derek from you."

"And I could never leave you," Derek said. "I've loved you too much for too long. I could no more leave you than I could leave Stiles. You are both a part of me… you're essential to who I am as a person. You're my soulmate, too."

They stayed in that night and Stiles prepared some popcorn to eat with their cake as they watched Netflix all snuggled against one another. Soon, however, the movie commanded their attention less than each other's' bodies, mouths, and cocks. Stiles took some icing from the cake and spread it across Jordan's skin before licking it off.

When it became evident that the movie was no longer necessary, they turned it off and stumbled their way to the bed where they collapsed in a tangled heap of limbs and kisses. Stiles rose up and down on Jordan's cock as Derek pumped into the birthday boy. Both watched in anticipation as Jordan experienced his most intense orgasm yet. Stiles and Derek came shortly after and they moved beneath the sheets, cuddling closely to Jordan who was still breathing heavily. "Best… birthday… ever…" he panted.

* * *

A Few Days Later

Stiles watched as Jordan screwed up his face and looked away. "Oh come on, Jordan… it doesn't hurt that badly!"

"I really hate needles!" Jordan replied as the tattoo artist began the process of writing Derek's name beneath Jordan's clavicle. Stiles' name was already shining bright and enflamed on his forearm.

"You're almost done," Derek said encouragingly.

"If God wanted me to get needles stabbed into my skin, he would have made me a pin cushion and not a supermodel," Jordan said matter-of-factly through his gritted teeth.

"Can't argue with that logic," the artist said as he put the finishing touches on the tattoo.

There was a palpable level of relief on Jordan's face as he saw the artist put down the needle and announce the tattoos finished. They paid and Jordan got up, looking a little queasy.

* * *

Several Months Later

"I'd rather model naked every day for the rest of my life than go in for another suit fitting," Stiles said stubbornly.

Jordan was clearly trying to contain his frustration. "Stiles, Derek and I have taken care of literally every other detail pertaining to this commitment ceremony. The  _least_  you could do is go to your final fitting."

"I don't know," Peter said, reclining on the couch. "I'm pretty sure I prefer his idea…"

"Uncle Peter…" Derek grumbled warningly.

Stiles had become accustomed to Peter's flirtatious remarks and occasional solicitations for sex. After a while, they stopped being creepy and became somewhat flattering so long as he didn't let his mind dwell on them too long. "The three of us are supermodels. We could wear anything to the ceremony and rock it."

Peter pointed in Stiles' direction. "Again… I like where his brain is."

"Really?" Jordan said as he finished his last touches on the seating chart. "Stiles… please just go down to the tailor and do your fitting?"

"Fine…" Stiles said grumpily. "But you owe me a blowjob or something…"

"If that offer is transferrable…" Peter chimed in.

"Uncle Peter!" Derek snapped.

"Yeah… who am I kidding. I've never sucked a dick in my life. Usually people are begging to swallow down mine!" Peter bragged.

Stiles pulled on his shoes and headed toward the door. "I'll go to the tailor," he said glumly.

"I'll follow you," Peter offered. "These two have become immeasurably boring." The way he said that made it clear to Stiles that there was nothing worse, in Peter's eyes, than being boring. "I honestly don't know how you put up with it…"

As they left the loft, Stiles joked. "In their defense, it's probably because you're here. We usually spend our free time having sex."

Peter clapped Stiles on the back playfully. "That's my boy!"

They separated after a few blocks and Stiles tried on the tuxedo that made him feel as though he couldn't breathe. He couldn't believe that this day was almost upon them. The three of them were getting 'married'. They couldn't actually marry one another because bigamy is illegal, but there was nothing that prevented them from exchanging vows and rings.

He knew he was being stubborn, but his classes and swim meets were taking a toll on him in addition to the modeling gigs that he was booking. Peter's influence had skyrocketed his career. He knew that the level of exhaustion he was feeling was the likely reason why he hadn't been asked to help with the planning, but it didn't keep him from resenting that they chose to do all of this during his busiest time of year.

Stiles picked up a dozen cupcakes on his way home. He hoped it would buy his fiancés' forgiveness for his unhelpfulness. They were well-received, but Stiles felt Jordan's remark of "This won't help my waistline in fitting my tux…" like a needle jabbing into his chest. He left them on the counter and went to bed. He didn't go right to sleep, however. He pretended to sleep, not wanting to say how Jordan's comment, no matter how innocently it was meant, hurt his feelings.

"Do you think he still wants to go through with it?" Jordan asked quietly.

"He would have said something if he didn't," Derek assured him.

"I don't know… he's been so different lately. I'm really starting to worry," Jordan insisted.

"You worry about everything. He loves us. He wants to marry us. But he's incredibly busy. I thought that was why we agreed to take care of everything," Derek said, ever the voice of reason. "Get some sleep and stop obsessing over this. Everything is fine."

The next morning, Stiles came clean about everything he heard and how it made him feel.

"Stiles… I'm so sorry…" Jordan said.

"I love you guys… I just hate all of this fanfare. I understand why it's important to you, though That's why I've tried to stay out of your way," Stiles said.

Derek had a smug "I told you so" look on his face as he looked at Jordan.

* * *

The Day of the Ceremony

In his changing room, Stiles stood in front of the mirror. His dad sat nearby. "Are you nervous?"

Stiles thought for a moment. "Not really, actually," he said. "I thought I would be terrified. I actually don't think I've ever been so sure about something before in my life."

"I have to admit, this isn't how I saw your wedding day going, but I'm glad you're happy," his dad said.

A sharp rap of knuckles on the door instantly grabbed their attention. They looked over to see Derek, whose eyes moved up and down Stiles. They seemed to shine brighter as the smile crossed his face.

"Isn't it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding or something?" Stiles said.

Derek took several steps toward Stiles, his eyes not leaving his soulmate's face. They shimmered in the sunlight that was coming in from the window. "That superstition is from when marriages used to be arranged. It was thought that if the bride and groom saw one another, they might change their minds." Derek's hand reached up, finding its place on Stiles' cheek. His thumb caressed the smooth skin. "You're not changing your mind, are you?"

"Of course not!" Stiles replied, leaning into the caress. Derek replied with a kiss that only stopped when Stiles' dad uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"Shouldn't you three be lining up?" he asked.

They moved out into the hallway. They had agreed to go down the aisle together. Stiles' dad went to take his place at the front of the chapel. Jordan seemed to be vibrating with nervous energy. Stiles and Derek hugged him. "I love you guys," he said.

They both replied, "I love you, too."

When the music began, Derek pulled away and kissed Stiles' and Jordan's foreheads. "Alright… here we go," he said.

Stiles took a deep breath. "I'm gonna say this before we're in earshot of Peter… I'm so glad we're doing this… I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Both of you…"

They all laughed as they began their procession down the aisle.

* * *

  _ **Take me as a seal upon your heart and upon your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy as enduring as the grave. Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame.**_

_**Song of Solomon, 8:6** _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please give feedback.


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